


Christmas Lights, Winter Formals, and Fragile Hearts

by Zilagurl



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Best Friends, Bottom Harry, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, M/M, Misunderstandings, Neighbors, Smut, Top Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 00:42:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5437070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zilagurl/pseuds/Zilagurl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being neighbors and inseparable best friends for ten years Harry thought he knew every single thing there was to know about Louis, but that changed the day he overheard Louis confiding his most personal secret to another friend. Finding out Louis didn't trust him enough to confide in broke Harry's heart, but finding out Louis was in love with someone else shattered it.</p>
<p>Best friends AU where it really doesn't take an expert in the art of misunderstandings, and being best friends and knobheads in love to know where this is headed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Lights, Winter Formals, and Fragile Hearts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shinzouosasageyo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinzouosasageyo/gifts).



> Okay so I learned the difference between wanting to write, and having the ability to write so I apologize in advance.  
> I wrote two versions of this. One strictly based on your Christmas prompt, but it was so bad I almost defaulted. Plus I think it was too similar to another fic, but I can't remember the title. This was the least lame and problematic of the two stories, and I'm sure you'll be able to tell it's my first time writing so please forgive the mistakes I didn't catch. Also Louis and Harry are only separated in age by a few months in this, and I apologize for the lame title. Other than that I hope I kept enough of your prompt in for you to enjoy it.
> 
> Other Notes:
> 
> Niall makes no actual appearances.
> 
> Set somewhere in southern California.

_Eight Days Before Christmas 2014_

Harry turns on his side after rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He lets out a frustrated grunt when the first thing he sees is the gift wrapped in red foil paper sitting on his nightstand. It's the third anonymous gift he's received in as many days and this one is as poorly wrapped as the other two were.

Much to her delight, Gemma found the other gifts on their front porch on her way out for her early morning jog and no doubt she was just as thrilled to find this one. 

"Why me?" Harry groans, nowhere near as thrilled as his sister, but nevertheless curious.

The first gift was an a maroon beanie which Harry assumed was to give him a break from the black and gray ones he wears all the time. The knitted caps help keep his unruly hair out of his face, and he really had been thinking about investing in more colors. So that was a plus at least. The second gift was a leather journal almost identical to the small diaries Harry uses to write his songs in, but while his mom and sister think the whole thing is romantic, Harry's annoyed and embarrassed.

"Fuck," Harry runs a frustrated hand through his tangled curls.

Even his best friend Louis has been urging him to go along with it just to find out who this person is. That wouldn't be so ironic if Louis wasn't the reason Harry didn't want the anonymous gifts in the first place. He even appreciates the effort that someone is taking to buy him the things they think he might like, but it bothers him more because no matter how much he likes the beanie and the journal, the person responsible is wasting their time.

Harry feels super guilty that someone is spending their money on him with no hopes of a return on their investment, and after today, he's sure Louis is right, he'll probably be receiving a gift a day until Christmas. That means there's nine more gifts or nine more days of someone wasting their time.

That's why Harry can't let it continue. He has to find a way to stop this person whoever they are. Okay, more than likely the person is a he since Harry's been out for more than three years, but as the gifts are anonymous there's no way to really tell. Either way, boy or girl, it's not going anywhere.

Harry decides to tell the person just that. It's the last day of school before the weekend so he could stay up, surprise his secret admirer, but the last thing he wants to do is embarrass someone. That only leaves one other option.

Harry gets out of the bed, grabs the new gift before placing it beside the other two he has sitting on his dresser, but instead of opening it, he picks up his backpack to get a pen and piece of paper to write on.

_I don't know who you are, but even if I did it wouldn't matter. You're wasting your time because I'm not interested. I never will be, so please stop with the gifts. It's really annoying and creepy. Sorry -H_

Later that night Harry leaves all three gifts and the note on the porch for his secret admirer to find. He hated sounding so mean and dismissive, but it was the only way he could think of to get his message across.

Hoping his plan works is Harry's last thought before he goes to sleep.

It does. The next morning there's no gift.

_Two Nights Before Christmas 2015_

"Hazza, you look incredible,” Anne stands in the doorway of her son’s bedroom blinking away tears. She's repeating the words Gemma’s been saying in one form or another since Harry did the last button on the black velour Yves Saint Laurent shirt she borrowed from her rich college boyfriend.

“What can I say, I’ve got the magic touch,” Gemma holds her hand out to Harry for a high five, but he ignores her and her hand because she's the reason he's standing in the middle of his bedroom looking like he just stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine.

If it weren't for his meddling older sister setting him up on a blind date Harry would be spending the night helping his mom wrap Christmas gifts. Or writing another song about letting go of dreams since that seems to be his inspiration lately. One things for sure, he definitely wouldn’t be going to a dance he couldn't be paid to attend otherwise. Especially when Louis is going to be there with someone else.

“Gems, you did good,” Anne answers her daughter when Harry just stands with his arms folded defensively across his chest. “I’m so proud of you, Harry,” his mom adds emotionally, looking at her son with pride in her eyes.

Instead of making Harry feel better the words irritate him just like all the other compliments he’s already received from his sister. Why would dressing in clothes he feels awkward in and going a date with a stranger be something his mom is proud of?

He’s been on the honor roll for the past seven years, just this year he won the top prize in a national song writing contest, and he wrote four songs for the drama department’s musical last year. Those are accomplishments most parents would be proud of, but not his mom. Right now she looks like she’s about to cry because Harry’s hair is beanie free and styled in as much of a quaff as his curls and all the hair product Gemma used would allow.

Anne's sniffling because Harry's dressed in a fancy designer shirt, a pair of black jeans so tight it's hard for him to even adjust himself, and a pair of boots he might or might not like. Okay, he is a little partial to the tan suede boots, but he’d take his rocker tees, regular fitting jeans and converse sneakers over what he has on any day of the week.

“Gemma, would you go get the black jewelry case I left sitting on my dresser?” Anne asks softly, but she keeps looking at Harry, her eyes full of pride.

“Sure mom,” Gemma hurries out of the room, squeezing Anne’s arm as she brushes by her.

“You’re beautiful, Haz,” Anne moves out of the doorway to walk over to her son. She brushes an invisible piece of lint off of the shirt before affectionately tucking a stray curl behind his ear. “Simply beautiful.”

“Thanks,” Harry relents a little, silently admitting he’s being way too harsh. He knows his mom is proud of him regardless of whether he goes on the date or not. Both his parents and his stepdad have never been anything but encouraging and supportive. It's just that all three of them have never hid their desire for him to be more social and outgoing like Gemma.

Tonight they’re finally getting their wish.

“Mom,” Gemma interrupts the mother and son moment to pass Anne the jewelry box.

Anne runs her hand reverently over it before opening the black lid. “I know you’ve admired these for quite a while now and tonight I want you to have them,” she lifts two rings out of the box. One is a simple inch wide gold band with a huge oval shaped blue topaz in the middle. The other ring is a smaller band with small pieces of blue turquoise filling the center.

“Mom no, those were granddad’s and I know how much they mean to you,” Harry protests genuinely. Maybe at some time in the future he’d be proud to take ownership of the rings, but tonight he'd be ashamed to take them because he doesn’t just admire the two pieces of jewelry for their sentimental value.

“They’re yours now,” Anne firmly lifts Harry’s hand then slides the turquoise ring on his second finger and the one with the topaz stone on his middle one. She smiles when the fit like they were made for her son. “Take good care of them,” she lifts Harry’s hand to kiss each ring.

“I have to get a picture,” Gemma says, interrupting another moment. “Crap, my phone,” she runs out of the room, acting almost as excited as she did when Harry finally agreed to go the date.

“I really can’t take these, mom,” Harry attempts to take the rings off, but Anne blocks his efforts. He’s about to protest again, but a movement over his mom's shoulder catches his eye.

Harry's gaze goes past his window, briefly focusing on the clear Christmas lights on the borders of the Tomlinson's house before trailing inside the bedroom of his neighbor slash best friend. It's really former best friend, but Harry has trouble thinking of Louis that way.

Right now Louis is moving around, probably getting ready to leave for the dance. Harry stops breathing when he stops moving all of a sudden. Right in front of his window, and for a heart stopping second Harry thinks Louis is looking back at him, but he’s wrong. Louis only stops long enough to close the curtains.

The unexpected move causes Harry to bite his bottom lip and blink back tears. It shouldn't bother him since he's the one who ended the ten year friendship, but for almost as long as they’ve been friends leaving their curtains open was just something they did for each other. Sometimes when one of them was on punishment or when one of them was sick, they communicated through their open windows. Somehow that led to their curtains staying open because even something as small as a wave to acknowledge the other person made them feel better.

The open curtains led to unlocked windows and the unlocked windows led to unrestricted access to each other. Louis and Harry could come and go into each other's bedroom as they pleased, and until three weeks ago Harry was silly enough to think the lack of barriers symbolized their friendship. Now he knows he was a fool to ever believe that.

“Haz, know why you like the rings so much and I still want you to have them,” Anne pulls Harry from his painful thoughts.

“I don’t know what you mean, mom,” Harry hasn’t discussed his feelings for Louis with Anne since he was fourteen years old. Then she laughed it off and told him he'd get over it. Tonight Harry can't give her the chance to dismiss his feelings again. Not when all his nightmares are about to come true.

“I know the stones remind you of Louis’ eyes,” Anne responds gently, shocking Harry in the process. “Just like I know how you feel about him,” she adds sympathetically when they hear Louis rev the engine to his car, both of them painfully aware that he’s about to leave to pick up his date for the dance. “How you’ve always felt about him.”

As much as Harry doesn't want her to be his mom is right, she is. He can’t remember a time when he didn’t love Louis. The boy with the blue eyes who fascinated him when he moved in ten years ago. Not a day since then has it changed, and although they haven't so much as said hi to each other in weeks, Harry's still fascinated.

When he's up close to Louis it's easy to see the specks of brown and green in the blues of his eyes, just like the unique specks in the turquoise stone resting heavy on his finger now. Then there're the times when sunlight hits Louis' eyes in a certain way and all Harry sees is a pure unfiltered blue. Almost like the blue topaz, but much more brilliant.

“Ditto for me, and no matter how much I adore him I think Louis is an idiot for not knowing it too,” Gemma contributes as she walks back into the room.

“Wouldn’t change anything if he did know,” Harry looks at the two most important women in his life, wondering why being in love couldn't be as easy as loving his mother and sister.

“You can’t know that for sure,” Anne admonishes her son, but this time she’s wrong. Harry knows for a fact Louis doesn’t have any feelings for him and he probably never will.

A mere three weeks ago Harry wouldn’t have been so fast to disagree, but his dream that Louis would love him back one day ended when he came early after his guitar teacher cancelled their weekly session.

Harry heard the voices the second he opened his bedroom door, and way before he saw Louis and Liam in Louis’ backyard. The window was let up just enough for their words to carry, and Harry was just about to stick his head out of it to fuss at his best friend for leaving it up after he crawled out to get ready for school that morning, but Harry stopped in his tracks when he heard Louis ask why being in love had to be so fucking painful.

Liam responded by saying something like it didn’t have to be, but Harry was so zoned out after hearing Louis say he was in love he can't say for sure. He was still in shock when he heard Liam say his name, but he didn’t catch the context of why they brought him up. It didn’t matter a few seconds later when he had to listen to the fucked up reason Louis didn’t want him to know.

_“You have to tell him, Louis. Harry's your best friend, he deserves to know,” Liam’s voice got so low Harry had to strain to hear him._

_“I did try to tell him before, but he shut me down before I could. I'm scared if I tell him now he'll start acting all weird. Then I’ll feel guilty for making him act weird and then things will be awkward between us. I don’t ever want that, Li," Louis sounded sad and hopeless. "I can't lose, H."_

_"So you’re putting friendship before love,” Liam didn’t sound impressed. “In theory that sounds noble, but I think it’s kind of fucked up. Sorry.”_

After that last bit of honesty from Liam, Harry didn’t need to hear anymore. He walked out of his room feeling gutted and betrayed. The ironic thing is he agreed with Liam. Louis shouldn’t have to choose friendship over love, and it didn’t say a lot about his and Harry’s friendship that he thought he had to. It also didn’t say a lot about their friendship that Louis didn’t trust him enough to confide in him. It tore Harry up inside knowing Louis chose to tell his secret to Liam, a boy who hadn’t even been living in their neighborhood and going to school with them for a full year.

Two days later, that little fact alone made it possible for Harry to tell Louis that he thought they were too dependent on each other and that he wanted to take a break from their friendship. The crap lie was only bearable by the fact that Harry felt he was doing the right thing by freeing Louis so he could be with the boy he was in love with.

The thing is, twenty one days later Harry still feels lost without his best friend. “I don’t want to talk about Louis anymore than I want to go on this date,” he asserts, ready to stick his fingers in his ears if he has to, but the doorbell rings the second the words are out of his mouth.

“Speaking of _this date,_ sounds like Chance is here,” Gemma’s faces lights up. Harry thinks with more enthusiasm than it should.

His face does the opposite. His expression is close to crestfallen, “Maybe it’s Niall coming to rescue me,” he says with false hope because his friend left three days ago to spend the holidays in Ireland with his dad and older brother.

Let Niall tell it, getting to travel outside of the states is a perk of having divorced parents, but Harry sees beneath the lightheartedness. He knows how much Niall misses his dad and brother, and he’s happy for his friend. He really is, but he sure could’ve used the extra support tonight.

“Not likely. Niall’s probably knee deep in four leaf clovers by now,” Anne laughs before she pulls Harry in for a hug.

“Thanks, mom. For the rings, and for everything,” Harry whispers, holding onto his mother really tight.

“You guys are such saps,” Gemma wraps her arms around Harry and Anne before pressing her face against Harry’s back. “Now come on before your first date ever leaves,” she teases when she steps back.

Harry goes to follow his sister out of his bedroom, but Anne grabs his arm. “Why don’t you let Chance in. Harry and I will join you shortly,” she tells Gemma in a no nonsense tone that leaves no room for debate.

“Mom, if you cry I swear I’ll lock you in your bedroom for the rest of the night,” Gemma threatens fondly before walking out of the room.

“Mom?” Harry gets alarmed when it really looks like she’s about to cry.

“Haz, I know it seems like I compare you to Gemma a lot, and I’m really sorry for that. I don’t mean to do it, I just don’t want you to waste anymore time waiting for something that might never happen,” Anne watches her son with tears threatening to spill.

“It’s okay, mom,” Harry hates seeing his mom upset. Any other time he would try to ease her worries a little more, but tonight he just doesn’t want to have this conversation.

“It’s not okay, Harry. You’ll be eighteen in a couple of months. You should be dating and going out. Having the time of your life, not waiting for Louis to free up a night for you out of his busy schedule. Or for him to realize that he’s in love with you too,” Anne almost sounds pleading and a little angry.

Harry knows the anger is directed at the situation, not Louis. His mom loves Louis like a second son, but that doesn't make Harry any less irritated.

“Who says I’ve been waiting,” he attempts to move past Anne, but she stops him. “I’m your mother,” she says it like that should be enough to prove her point and to a certain extent she’s right.

Harry has been waiting and hoping Louis would return his feelings one day, and its true his only social activities consists of the nights Louis have free. The thing is it’s Harry’s choice. For good reason he thinks, and he would tell his mom that if he didn’t desperately want to avoid this conversation.

“Mom, I’m sorry, but I really have to go. This is what you want remember?”

“I just want you to be happy and I think this is a step in the right direction,” Anne responds before wrapping Harry in another brief hug.

“I know that, and I’m sorry for being such a prick the last few days,” Harry apologizes, knowing his mom is the last person to deserve his anger.

“Do you remember when you told me who Louis was taking to the dance and I said surely he could’ve found someone better than that to ask?” Anne asks pointedly, resting her hands on Harry’s shoulder, watching him through eyes that are almost identical to his own green ones.

Of course Harry remembers. How could he forget when Calvin Turner stopped him in the mall last week and asked him for Louis' number knowing Harry knew he already had it. Calvin's had both of their numbers since the three of them had to do a project for their AP English class two years ago. The. being the prick he is, Calvin texted Harry twice to let him know Louis accepted his invitation to the dance.

Harry didn't have a clue why Calving kept messaging him since it was no secret around school that him and Louis weren't friends anymore. Finally he came to the conclusion that Calvin was just being himself, an annoying asshole.

“I remember.”

“I was talking about you, sweetheart. I thought Louis should’ve asked you, and not as a best friend,” Anne says, and although it doesn’t change anything the words do make Harry feel a tad bit better. “I love you, mom,” he initiates the hug this time.

“I love you too, baby,” Ann squeezes her son tight before pulling back. “You know, I’d love nothing more than to see you and Louis together, but until that happens…,” she wiggles her perfectly arched eyebrows suggestively.

Harry actually laughs out loud."I’d still rather stay home and wrap gifts with you,” he teases, shocked that he actually can laugh.

“What if I wait until tomorrow to wrap them?” Anne offers the compromise fondly. “You’d like that?”

“Yeah, I would,” Harry agrees, and for the first time since accepting the date he feels something like enthusiasm. At least he has something to look forward to.

“Now let’s go meet this Chance person. I heard from a reliable source that he’s much hotter in person," Anne leads the way out.

Harry follows her, his heart only breaking a little more when his eyes land on Louis’ closed drapes before he flips the lights off.

\-----

By the time he walks into the gymnasium with his date, Harry’s reached a level of frustration he never knew existed. Obviously no one ever told the guy Gemma set him up with that bragging about his family’s fortune is not the way to win most sane people over. In all his years of high school Harry’s never been so happy to see his classmates or the inside of the gym.

When Harry heard about the winter formal he thought the people who decided it should be held on the night before Christmas Eve, while they were on their Christmas break no less, was an idiot. Now those people are his heroes because if he had to listen to Chance Worthington _The 3rd_ talk about his trust fund one second longer, he'd be screaming and pulling his hair out.

“Hi, Harry,” one of the girls, Cynthia he thinks, in Harry's calculus class speaks to him as she walks by, but her eyes are stuck on his date.

“Hey,” Harry fights the urge to roll his eyes, but he's surprised when his classmate fixes her eyes on him.

"You look really good tonight."

"Love the shirt, looks good on you," a girl Harry doesn't even know at Cynthia's side speaks up.

"Thanks," Harry responds, uncomfortably aware of all the second glances he's getting from other students, but he's just grateful that the two girls don't try to hang around for more conversation. They move on after waving.

“Do you want to find a table?” Chance speaks against Harry’s ear, startling him, and he turns to look at the person Gemma actually thought it was a good idea for him to go out with.

When Harry walked into his family’s living room earlier tonight, he couldn’t help being impressed. His heart might belong to Louis, but that didn’t make him blind. Chance Worthington _The 3rd_ is one spectacular looking human being with his sun kissed blond hair, chiseled features and gray eyes. In the black suit that's obviously tailored to fit his body, it's easy to see how fit he is. After seeing him in person Harry started to understand why Gemma sounded infatuated when she described Chance. How she thought Harry would ever like him is another story.

“Good luck with that,” Harry pans the crowded gym. Even with the students dancing arm to arm on the basketball court, finding a table is still highly unlikely.

“What do you say we try anyway?" Chance responds too close to Harry’s ear again.

Only because the loud music is so loud does Harry spares him an elbow to the stomach. Instead he allows Chance to grip his elbow, but before they can move Harry spots a couple approaching them, and although he knew he’d be faced with the reason his parents think he's antisocial it still catches him by surprise.

Seeing Louis make out with some random guy at a party over two years ago was all it took for Harry to become a social hermit. He quickly realized that was a wrenching pain he could live without ever experiencing again, but thanks to Gemma he’s feeling the crushing ache again right now.

It doesn’t help at all that Louis looks like a walking dream. The blue shirt and matching trousers fit his compact shape perfectly, and the blue and black suspenders should be outlawed. No eighteen year old boy should look so hot in suspenders, but Louis does, and it doesn't stop there. His teased hair makes his jawline more prominent. And his eyes, Harry could write a thousand songs about the color of Louis’ eyes alone. So far he’s only written three and now that's something Louis will never know.

“I see someone's taking the ugly duckling transformation thing seriously,” Louis’ date says derisively when he and Louis are standing directly in front of Harry.

Calvin Turner is a total dick and the insult rolls off Harry's back. It's a mystery to him why Louis agreed to come to the dance with the boy who takes great pleasure in antagonizing half the student body. At least Harry has the comfort of knowing Calvin’s not the boy Louis is in love with. There's no way it's him. Harry's even more sure it's not when Calvin opens his sarcastic mouth again. “Don’t know if you’re the swan yet, but keep trying okay."

Chance clears his throat, possibly as a show of support or maybe to remind the group of his presence, but Harry ignores him to stare Louis’ asshole of a date down. He glares until Calvin looks away in defeat, but the victory is hollow when all Harry wants is standing next to the jerk of a human being.

“Hey, I just spotted Josh and Sarah,” Calvin turns to Louis with a red face when no other conversation is forthcoming. “I’ll be right back okay.”

Harry almost laughs out loud. Calvin sounds like Louis has ditched him before, and who better to deserve it. It’s even funnier when Louis lets his date walk away without responding to him.

With Calvin gone Louis finally looks up. "You look incredible, Haz,” Louis says, his eyes eating Harry up.

At least that’s what it looks like to Harry and it throws him into a puzzled silence. His brain is telling him to say something like why didn’t you say that when Calvin insulted me, but all he can do is stare back.

“Umh, so I’m Chance Worthington the Third,” Harry’s date speaks up when the other two boys seem intent on just staring at each other.

“I’m Louis Tomlinson, Harry’s best friend,” Louis tears his eyes away from Harry long enough to shake Chance’s hand.

“Nice to meet you, Harry’s best friend,” Chance sounds friendly, not obnoxious, but it doesn't matter because Louis' attention is on Harry again, this time his eyes searching and full of bafflement.

Harry’s face is completely blank, but his mind is busy with thoughts of how amazing Louis looks. His ex best friend is so stunning Harry’s eyes hurt looking at him. That's one of the things that's kept him fascinated all these years. Harry's watched Louis grow into an expert soccer player and skateboarder. At the same time into absolutely the prettiest person he's ever known. Actually pretty doesn't even come close to describing how gorgeous Louis is, but try telling him that and he'll laugh or flip you off.

“So, we were just about to look for a table,” Chance interrupts the stare down again.

“We were?” Harry frowns, eyes still stuck on Louis, but his memory finally kicks in. “Oh, that’s right we were. See you around, Louis,” he makes sure the words sounded indifferent.

Harry seals the point by quickly turning away from his ex best friend. Except he’s not fast enough and he has to pretend he didn’t see the shock and hurt on Louis’ face. Seconds later he has to pretend he doesn’t hear the quiet “See ya".

Harry lets out a dry laugh because of course Louis would get the last word. For once he just couldn't walk away and keep his mouth shut. Nope, that would be too much to ask for.

Harry knows he's being irrational. The last word thing is a longstanding joke between him and Louis, but being irrational about it now is better than crying.

“Is everything okay?” Chance asks when Harry keeps his eyes on the floor.

“Yeah, it is now," Harry looks up with a fake smile plastered on his face, trying not to look as guilty as he feels. It’s not like Louis hasn’t had three weeks to get used to the distance Harry put between them. Louis even backed away himself after almost a week of the cold shoulder treatment. He gave up trying to get Harry to change his mind. So why the hurt feelings act now?

It doesn’t make sense to Harry, and almost twenty minutes later it still doesn’t make sense. Except it kind of does. Louis misses him, probably just as much as he misses Louis, but it doesn't change anything no matter how much Harry wishes it could.

“So I said I’ll take three of them, and after you ring them up I’d like to speak with your manager,” Chance laughs at the conclusion of his obnoxious story.

Harry’s pretty sure his date is talking about embarrassing a salesperson for daring to stress the price of an expensive watch, but he’s only caught bits and pieces of the story. Since they miraculously found a table he’s been too busy thinking about Louis. Way too much to listen to more of the lame bragging.

“I’m sure that taught them a lesson,” Harry responds dryly. He used the ambiguous term for the sales person’s gender because he missed the part where Chance said if they were male or female.

“Would you like to dance?” Chance abruptly changes the subject, catching Harry by surprise.

“Not right now, thanks,” he rushes because no, not happening. “Maybe you could get us a couple of sodas?” he tries to cover the snub.

“Actually, that was my next question. I’m on a date with a mind reader,” Chance stands up, smiling despite Harry not responding to the teasing. “Coke?”

It’s an obvious attempt to lighten things up and Harry feels bad for looking forward to getting a break from his date. “Something fruity if you can find it,” he responds, still feeling guilty, but it doesn’t stop him from sighing in relief when Chance walks away.

Silence is Harry's friend right now, and without anymore distractions he takes the time to survey the gym. He's impressed. It’s a holiday scene come to life. The Christmas music, the expertly decked out trees, the giant gift towers, the ornament centerpieces on all of the tables, and the multicolored lights all over the large space scream Christmas. At the back of the gym the line is backed up with students waiting to have their pictures taken with Santa Claus or on the inside of a gigantic snow globe. It’s everything a winter formal should be for someone who could appreciate it more.

“So that’s Gemma’s college friend you’ve been talking about so much,” Louis appears out of nowhere. He sits down without an invitation, and although his words don’t sound mean spirited they still don’t sit well with Harry.

“I wouldn’t call telling Niall _talking about him so much_ , but you can call it whatever you want," Harry only told Niall about the date only to get sympathy from the only person who knows how he feels about his best friend. It's not his fault if Niall told Louis. 

“I didn't mean that the way it sounded,” Louis looks down and starts playing with his fingers.

“Then how did you mean for it to sound?” Harry’s surprised by the fury in the words and judging by the way Louis snaps his head up it surprises him too. "Why are you even here, Louis?”.

“I'm here because I miss my best friend. I don’t know what I did, but I can’t make it right if you don’t talk to me. I know you said something about us being too dependent on each other, but I don’t believe that. Not after all this time. You've hardly looked at me for three weeks. I don’t understand, Harry. I gave you the space you asked for, but I miss you. I just want us back,” Louis pleads with his words and his eyes.

Harry almost cracks.

Almost.

Instead he lets out a dry laugh. “Go find your date and leave me alone. By the way why would you go out with an asshole like that?.”

“The person I wanted to ask had other plans,” Louis responds, and the undertone of sarcasm isn’t lost on Harry.

He’s just too done to care about what it means. “Shouldn’t you be telling all of this to your new best friend,” he says snidely, wondering when he started to believe his own lies. Because right now he’s furious Louis chose Liam over him.

“What new best friend?” Louis looks confused and hurt.

“That would be Liam. You know the person you tell your deepest secrets to. Secrets you can’t tell anyone else,” Harry‘s words are laced with cruelty and hurt, and he watches as Louis’ face transitions from confused to shock. Then something resembling fear takes over.

“He told you?” he asks in disbelief.

“No, he didn’t tell me,” Harry says snidely. “I overheard you. My guitar practice was cancelled one day and I came home early. What are the odds it would be on the same day I learned my best friend really isn’t my best friend at all.

“You’ve known all this time and you didn’t say anything?” Louis shakes his head like he’s having trouble processing."Why?"

“I didn’t have to say anything because you said it all for me. What was it? You didn’t want me to know because I’d start acting weird,” Harry mocks, and the power from finally getting to spill everything rushes over him. "You're a liar too, Louis. You said you tried to tell me before, but you didn't because I definitely would've remembered if you had ever told me something so important."

Louis looks trapped and it's obvious he's struggling to come up with an answer. "I'm sorry, Haz," he finally pleads.

"You don't have to be. It doesn't matter anymore," Harry flares his nostrils then scrunches his nose to prevent his face from betraying how devastated he is.

“I thought if you ever found out how I feel things would be awkward between us, but I didn’t think it would make you cruel,” Louis’s eyes get extra bright and his mouth starts trembling when he stops talking.

Harry ignores both. “What did you expect? In ten minutes I find out my best friend has been keeping the secret of secrets from me. If that wasn’t enough I had to learn you trusted someone you haven’t known a whole year with that secret. Not me, your fucking best friend, Louis!”

“I was too scared to tell you,” Louis’ looks like he’s having a hard time talking, but he keeps trying. “You have to understand why.”

“No, I don’t have to understand, and if you were scared to tell me...if you couldn’t trust me then I was right. You were never my best friend.”

Even as Harry repeats the lie he can’t pretend to be unaffected by Louis’ visible hurt anymore. He’s still furious, but it’s killing him to see Louis this upset and he looks down at the table so he doesn’t have to look at him anymore. Only the rings on his fingers remind him of the tortured eyes across the table from him.

“I can’t believe how unfair you’re being about this. Who are you even?” Louis sounds close to tears, but Harry refuses to look up. He can’t.

“What if it was you? What if our roles were switched? How fair would you be to me?” Harry shoots off the series of questions half hoping Louis comes up with an answer that makes sense. Anything that can help him get over the feeling of betrayal. Anything that can make them alright again. Anything that could make Louis not be in love with someone else.

“It would never be me though would it? Because that would mean you’d have to have feelings for…,” Louis’ voice cracks and he swallows audibly.

“Just go away, Louis. Please just go,” Harry throws his head back and he covers his eyes with his hands. There’s no way he’s letting Louis turn this around and put the blame on him.

There’s absolutely no way.

Except Louis has one more thing to say. “Maybe you’re right, Harry. Maybe we were never best friends.”

Harry almost snorts because as usual Louis is just trying to have the last word. Of course he is, and he probably intended for the barely whispered words to break something in Harry. Louis has to know how out of place they sound coming from him and that's the only reason he said them. It doesn’t matter to Harry that he's said the same exact words more than once. Right now all that matters is how wrong it felt to hear Louis say them.

Harry's mind flashes back to the first time Louis spent the night with him and how they stayed up talking and watching horror movies. Back then it was probably the best night of Harry's life. Now, almost ten years later they've had hundreds of similar nights and he's sure Louis has slept in his bed more than he’s slept in his own. There’s so much good history between them. Too much to try and erase ten years of being best friends. Especially over something that can probably be fixed with a little honesty from both of them.

Harry abruptly lifts his head to tell Louis that, but the chair he was sitting in is empty. “Lou,” he moans as pain rocks him. 

“You kind of made it clear you didn’t want him here,” Harry’s date appears at his side, holding two sodas in one hand, looking different in someway.

“How much did you hear?” Harry can't put his finger on what's changed about Chance, but he's not up to really trying to figure it out.

“Listen, can we talk for a second?” Chance ignores Harry's question for one of his own.

“About?” Harry inhales deeply. He’s not trying to be rude, but listening to another boring story isn't an option right now. Not when he’s so close to shattering.

“Gemma will probably kill me for this, but I think you should know that I'm not rich, nowhere near it. I'm a full time college student and part time salesperson. These aren't my clothes or shoes, and besides my pretentious sounding name everything I've said tonight has been a lie.

Hearing Gemma’s name caught Harry's attention, but he's been pretty much confused since. “Everything?”

“Everything,” Chance stresses the word. “I don’t have a trust fund, the Porsche is a rental, I would never ever be rude to a salesperson obviously, and last but not least, I’m not gay," he adds with a week smile.

Harry’s brain feels like it short circuited, but at least now he knows the lack of pretentiousness is what's changed about Chance. "I still don't understand, and what does my sister have to do with this?”

"Gemma only told me that she was tired of her brother pining over his best friend, that she couldn’t let you go another year without knowing if you had a chance with him. She enlisted my help, and on the very very slight chance you might really like me, we thought up the obnoxious rich boy act. Now that I've seen you and Louis together I realize there was never even a remote chance you'd actually like me, but your sister can be very convincing. Plus it sounded like fun at the time.”

“Why tell me now?,” Harry shouldn't be surprised Gemma's involved in this. She’s been trying unsuccessfully for months to get him to try and make Louis jealous by going out with someone else and in Gemma fashion she had almost worn him down. He'd actually been considering going on a date just to test the waters. To see if Louis would react at all, but then he overheard the confession to Liam.

“Because there’s been nothing fun about this since your best friend introduced himself to me, and whether he's in love with you or not, what you just did to him was brutal.”

“How do you know he didn’t deserve it?” Harry asks defensively.

“Did he?” Chance challenges perceptively, but the person at the center of the fallout walks up to the table before Harry can answer.

It’s obvious from Liam's expression that he's not happy. “What is your problem, Harry?” he asks, ignoring Chance.

“What problem is that, Liam?” Harry responds as calmly as he can. He’s never blamed Liam, but jealousy and anger caused him to back away from their friendship. He kind of regrets that now.

“How could you treat Louis like that? He’s your best friend or at least I used to think he was," Liam replies angrily, heat flashing in his brown eyes.

“We okay here?” Chance breaks in.

“This is between me and Harry,” Liam turns to glare at Chance.

“I don’t care,” Chance enunciates each word, not sounding intimidated at all.

“It’s okay, I can handle this,” Harry rushes to defuse things before they escalate. “I don’t owe you any explanations, Liam, but since you asked I'll tell you. How would you feel if you found out your best friend didn’t trust you enough to tell you his most personal secret? How would you feel if you overheard him telling that secret to someone he hasn’t known a tenth of the time he’s known you?"

“That’s bullshit, Harry. It would hurt for sure, but you don’t drop your best friend just because they didn’t tell you a secret anyone would be scared to share. You and I both know the real reason you’re treating Louis like this, and I get it. It freaked you out when you found out the truth. That’s understandable, but what I don’t understand is why you threw your best friend away,” Liam looks imposing standing next to the table, but Harry’s not afraid. He just wants to find Louis so they can talk, but as much as he wants that it doesn’t make him the bad person. Louis is the one who betrayed him.

“I know I could’ve handled things better. Believe it or not I was just about find Louis so I can tell him that, but you're wrong Liam, he did the throwing away, not me. I only did what I thought was best under the circumstances," Harry comes as close to the truth as he can without talking to Louis first. Louis deserves his honesty more than anyone else.

If anything the answer seems to frustrates Liam more. “Louis only tried to protect you, but do you know what? I really hope it doesn’t take him long to get over you because you don’t deserve him, Harry,” he lashes out before turning around like he’s about to walk away.

In his heart Harry knows Liam was only talking in terms of friendship, but it almost sounded like he was saying Louis has feelings for him. It’s an out of reach dream now more than it’s ever been, but if Harry hadn’t actually heard Louis say he was in love with someone that’s not him, he might actually believe that’s what Liam meant.

Harry twists the rings to combat the pain the thought causes him.

“Did you even once think about Louis' feelings while you were ripping his heart out?” Liam turns back around, looking even angrier. “Look, I know I haven’t been Louis’ friend as long as you. I thought I was your friend too, but I guess not.”

“Liam, that’s not really true,” Harry attempts to explain. "We are friends."

“No, it’s fine if you don’t think so,” Liam blocks his effort. “It’s just…, it doesn’t take years to get to know someone. I might not be Louis’ best friend, but I know him enough to know he never would have turned on you if he found out you were in love with him. If he didn’t feel the same way he would’ve done everything in his power to make sure you didn’t suffer. Fuck Harry, he probably would've pretended to love you back just to spare your feelings, but you did the opposite to him. Why?"

Harry stops playing with the rings and his eyes shoot up to Liam, panic making them wide. “What are you talking about, Liam?” he asks, fear causing his voice to tremble.

“Don’t play dumb. It’s a little too late for that,” Liam responds unsympathetically.

“That’s enough,” Chance finally speaks up again, frowning at Liam. “Are you okay?” he turns to Harry.

“I'm fine," Harry lies. "Was Louis talking about me that day?” he asks Liam, hot tears filling his eyes.

“I’m not in the mood for games, Harry,” Liam doesn’t answer the desperate question, but he sounds less hostile and more confused now.

“Look at him for fucks sake! Does he look like he’s playing games?” Chance argues with enough force to cause a few people look over at them.

“Louis said you overheard us,” Liam’s tone loses all of its harshness, but he still doesn’t answer Harry’s question.

Harry really needs an answer. “I never said I heard the entire conversation. Please, Liam. Was Louis talking about me ? Is he in love with me?” he asks again, more urgent this time.

“Yes,” Liam sighs, and his chest sinks noticeably when he exhales. “Yeah, he is.”

Harry can’t speak. His throat is so tight it’s painful. All he can do is shake his head to answer Liam.

“Just breathe, okay,” Chance speaks up when it looks like Harry is about to go into to full panic mode. “Slow deep breaths,” he instructs sympathetically.

Harry listens to the instructions. He breathes in and out until the panicky feeling eases up, but he still has to swallow several times before he can speak. “I thought I was getting out of his way. You said it was shitty that he was trading friendship for love,” he rambles, trying to make sense out of everything while he talks.

“I only meant that I thought he could have both,” Liam looks down at Harry intently. “Can he?”

“He’s always had both,” Harry answers, tears pooling his eyes again, a few falling. "Where is he?”

“He left, said he had something at home to take care of,” Liam answers, frowning again. “He was really upset.”

“Can you take me home?” Harry turns to his date, wiping his face, already standing up.

“You bet I will,” Chance gets up too, sounding relieved. “I’m Chance by the way, Harry’s date. Well not really, but that’s a story for another time,” he holds his hand out to Liam who looks embarrassed as he takes it.

“Sorry about all of that. I know you didn't have anything to do with it.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Chance waves off Liam’s apology. “Sounds to me like Louis has a really good friend.”

“Li, I’m your friend too if you want,” Harry joins in with regret. “I’m sorry I’ve been a jealous prick. Can you forgive me?” he asks sincerely.

“I already did,” Liam smiles wide and he gives Harry a brief hug. “Now go get your best friend back.”

Harry takes the advice to heart. He definitely plans on getting his best friend back, but he plans on coming away with much more than that.

\-----

The drive home seemed to take a lot longer than the ride to the dance, and when they arrived at the school Harry couldn’t wait to get out of the car. Now that the Porsche is parked in front of his house he's just sitting in the passenger seat staring out of the window at the blinking Christmas lights attached to the roof of his house. For as far back as he can remember the decorations have been one of his favorite things about Christmas. Especially the lights, but tonight to constant blinking is too much of a reminder of the hope and fear battling for ownership of his heart.

“I really hope everything works out for you two,” Chance speaks up when Harry still hasn’t moved a few minutes later.

“Thanks for tonight, I guess,” Harry unwillingly turns awayfrom the window. If I didn't go on the date I’d still be thinking Louis was in love with someone else.”

“I think you should thank your sister for that,” Chance reminds Harry of Gemma’s involvement.

“Why’d you agree to it? Seems like a lot to ask of a friend,” Harry replies, but he stops when a thought hits him. “Wait are you even friends with my sister?”

“More like friendly lab partners who hang out sometimes,” Chance responds, but there’s something extra in the words. Something wistful.

“Sounds like there’s more to it,” Harry picks up on the wistfulness, but at the same time he knows Gemma wouldn’t cheat on her boyfriend.

Chance smiles down at the steering wheel and shrugs. “Only that one day when your sister gets over her infatuation with her rich boyfriend I’ll be there waiting with my arms wide open.”

“Oh,” Harry says for lack of a better response, but he's not about to judge. If anybody can understand what it’s like to secretly love someone it’s him.

“Did that sound too weird?” Chance winces, but humor’s lighting his gray eyes.

“No,” Harry answers quietly.

The real Chance is okay, plus Harry thinks it's a real possibility that Gemma likes her lab partner. Nothing against her current boyfriend, but when she talked about Chance there was something more in her voice than her just fawning over his looks. Something Harry's never seen when she talks about her boyfriend, but unlike his sister, Harry’s not in the meddling business so he keeps the information to himself.

“Well, I think the only thing keeping you from working things out with your best friend is that car door and a about a ton of unnecessary fear,” Chance astutely points out.

“That obvious?” Harry asks, still hedging.

“Trust me I could major in stalling. Most of my papers are last minute masterpieces,” Chance admits, with a bit of self-admiration in his tone. “Go talk to him, Harry. Think about how bad he must be hurting and how you're the one who can make it all go away,” he adds more seriously, and that’s all it takes for Harry to get over himself.

“You’re right, and thanks again, Chance."

Once he’s out of the car, Harry doesn’t stick around to watch Chance drive off. He literally sprints around the corner of his house. He doesn't stop until he’s standing in Louis’ backyard, but once he's there Harry starts moving a little slower on his approach to Louis’ bedroom window because there’s so much uncertainty on the other side.

__

What if he went too far tonight? What if Louis won’t be able to forgive him?

__

When Harry walks by the last bush separating him from Louis' window he wishes the chill making him shiver had something to do with the weather, but it's too warm out, even for a jacket. That's one of the drawbacks of living in southern California. You never know if you'll be wearing a coat or shorts for Christmas. This year it looks like shorts, so the chills have nothing to do with the weather and everything to with the fear that he's lost Louis forever.

Harry's only a few seconds away from tapping on the window when he remembers Gemma threatened to cut his balls off if he ruined the shirt. So he turns in the opposite direction to go change before he confronts Louis, but the closer Harry gets to his own window the faster his heart starts beating. It looks like somebody already let it up.

By the time Harry's standing in front of the glass panes he has no more doubts, and there’s only one person who knows the window is never locked. Only one person who would crawl through it and leave it up. There’s the small possibility it could be a burglar, but Harry’s pretty sure it’s not as he climbs leg first into his bedroom.

It's not easy with the tight jeans on, but somehow he manages to make it in. Maybe a little out of breath, but he's in. It doesn’t even occur to him that Louis could be gone until he doesn’t spot him immediately. He scans the darkness twice, swallowing his disappointment when he can’t make out Louis’ shape anywhere. Fuck, was Louis' car even in his driveway? Harry had been too preoccupied to notice.

"Fuck!" Harry doesn’t see Louis standing in the corner until he turns on the lights. “Shit! You almost scared me to death,” he complains with his hand over his heart.

“I didn’t know you’d be home so early,” Louis admits quietly, looking somewhere over Harry’s shoulder, and although he’s exchanged the clothes he had on at the dance for a sweatshirt, joggers, and a pair of old Vans, he's still breathtakingly beautiful to Harry.

“What are you doing here?” he finally remembers to lower his voice. His bedroom might be the only one on this side of the house, but any one of his family members could walk by.

“Your trophy,” Louis gestures to the glass statute shaped like a treble clef on the shelf behind him. “Was sure you’d want it back.”

“I gave it to you. It’s yours,” Harry feels tears stinging his eyes, now he knows what Louis meant when he told Liam he had something to take care of at home.

“Yeah, well that was before,” Louis’ voice trembles and it looks like he’s fighting to control his face. “I’ll leave now, and I promise I won’t bother you again.”

“Don’t go, please,” Harry rushes before just before Louis lifts his leg to put it out of the window.

“Why?” Louis finally turns to face Harry, not bothering to hide the pain in his eyes.

It’s too much. Harry can’t take anymore. He rushes over to Louis, only stopping long enough to take a deep breath before crushing their lips together.

It’s not the prettiest first kiss for Harry. His mouth is open too wide and Louis is just standing there. Not participating, but not pushing Harry off either. He’s so still Harry wonders if he made a mistake until all of a sudden Louis is kissing him back almost frantically. He tilts his head and if possible opens his mouth wider than Harry’s, but the second Harry slips his tongue inside Louis forcefully pushes him away.

“What are you doing?” Louis brings his hand up to touch his wet mouth. His breathing is fast and choppy, but what causes Harry to back away is the anger in his eyes.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Harry drops down on his bed before burying his face in his hands. What the fuck was he thinking after the way he treated Louis tonight. After the way he’s been treating him for the past three weeks.

Harry lifts his head to apologize again, but he doesn’t get the chance because something heavy crashes into him with enough force to push him back on the bed. He doesn’t realize it’s Louis until a pair of impossibly soft lips cover his.

"Louis," Harry wraps is arms around Louis’ waist and he groans into the kiss. This time he doesn’t want to mess up so he follows Louis’ lead. Not opening his mouth until Louis opens his, only moving his tongue after Louis licks inside his mouth.

Harry slides back to get a better grip on Louis. He shifts back enough to lift his feet and plant them on the bed. Louis has to move up to realign their bodies again and as he moves Harry feels his shirt bunch up in between them, but he’s too preoccupied with the way Louis’ tongue is sweeping across the inside of his mouth to really care. He lifts his hips to rub against Louis, causing the shirt to roll more and that’s when he remembers.

_Fuck! The shirt!_

Harry shoves Louis off and he sits up, his hands immediately going to the buttons.

“I’m sorry, I misunderstood,” Louis stays on his back to stare up at the ceiling.

“Yeah,” Harry cranes his neck to look at Louis. “I mean no, fuck! It’s the shirt,” he hurries to add when disappointment flashes across Louis’ face. “Apparently it cost more than a month’s worth of groceries, and Gemma said I better take care of it or else.

“Okay,” Louis sounds relieved, but he still looks unsure.

“Don’t move while I change, okay?” Harry stands with the intention of changing into something similar to the outfit Louis has on, but he decides to stick to his boxers after he kicks his way out of the tight too jeans. It’s what he sleeps in any other night Louis sleeps over. Same thing when he sleeps at Louis’ so there’s nothing about it that would make it awkward now.

“Will you stay tonight?” Harry asks when the unharmed shirt is hanging safely in his closet. His heart lodges in his throat when he makes it back over to the bed and he’s struck again at just how stunning Louis is.

He must have showered when he got home because his hair isn’t styled anymore. It’s falling flat on his head and it looks like soft silk. The black sweatshirt makes his skin look even more golden, and Harry thinks Louis’ eyes have never looked bluer. Everything about him is perfect, and Harry’s having trouble believing Louis is here in his room, sitting on his bed, looking at his body in a way a platonic best friend never would.

“Why do you want me to stay? Be honest with me, Harry. I don't mind,” Louis’ eyes travel up Harry’s body none too hastily and the heat stays in them as he searches Harry’s face for answers.

“Do you remember the summer we were fourteen and I went to New York for that month long songwriting workshop?” Harry sits down beside Louis, making sure their thighs touch. He’s pretty sure they’ve touched like this in the past. Skin to skin, nothing between them, but he’s sure it’s never felt so personal and intimate.

“Yeah,” Louis sounds puzzled.

“And on my third day there you found out your parents were getting divorced,” Harry’s caught up in the memory himself. “What did I say when you told me I how scared you were?” he asks, sounding breathless.

“You told me if you had wings you’d fly back to me right then. That if I asked you’d quit the workshop and come home to be with me, but I couldn’t let you do that. Not when it meant so much to you,” Louis responds softly.

“You were always so tough. Always putting on a brave face for everyone. Even with me most of the time, but not then,” Harry’s voice trembles. “You let me in. You let your guard down for me and I never forgot it. So I wrote you a song. _If I Could Fly_ is yours. That's why I gave you the trophy. It already belonged to you, even before I wrote the first word.”

Louis looks at Harry with soft surprise in his eyes. “I always thought you wrote it for your mom, and you never corrected me.”

“Half the songs I write are about you Louis. I couldn't ever tell you that. You would’ve known that I’m in love with you if I did,” Harry confesses, but his heart drops when Louis’ eyes fill with angry doubt.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Harry? You’re not in love with me so don’t say it. That would be worse than you hating me for being in love with you. So your date with college boy didn’t work out and you want to use me. Fine, but don’t lie to me. It would kill me,” Louis’ voice goes whispery thin at the end and he wipes his eyes roughly.

“Is that what you think? I’m using you?” Harry asks incredulously, pain ripping through him. “I would never in my life use you, Louis. You mean too much to me as my best friend and as the person I’m in love with.”

Louis wipes at his eyes again, but he doesn’t reject Harry’s declaration of love this time. Still Harry feels like the lowest human being on earth. “And my date worked out better than I ever hoped,” he purposely steers the conversation in another direction.

“Exactly how did it work out?” Louis takes the bait.

“For one he likes girls. Two he’s in love with my meddling sister. You know Gemma, the person who set the date up to help me make you jealous. Why do you think she'd do that, Louis?”

“I don’t know,” Louis answers hesitantly.

To Harry the words sound hopeful, not disbelieving. He's almost giddy with relief. “Can you tell me why when my mom gave me these rings tonight she said she knows part of the reason I want them is because the stones remind me of your eyes?”

“Do they?” Louis asks, looking at the rings. He’s not holding his body so erect anymore and he’s smiling.

He's smiling.

The smile makes Harry feel more alive than he has in a long time, but he’s not through explaining yet. “I know I said I overheard you and Liam talking, but it's clear now that I didn’t hear the whole conversation. The parts I did hear sounded like you were talking about being in love with someone else, but you couldn’t do anything about it because you were worried what it would do to me. When Liam said it was wrong for you to have to trade love for friendship I realized I had to take myself out of the equation. Yeah, I was really mad at you for confiding in Liam. Okay, I was furious," he adds when Louis lifts his eyebrows, "but I ended our friendship so you could be happy.”

“That is one of the most fucked up things I’ve ever heard,” Louis surprises Harry with the angry outburst. “Didn’t you ask yourself once why I couldn’t talk to you about it? Why would I tell Liam and not you? You had to think about that.

“Of course I thought about it, but I was too hurt knowing you were in love with somebody who wasn’t me to really give it a good analysis,” Harry responds dryly and he yelps when Louis pinches his thigh.

“Well didn’t you wonder where this mystery boy was at all in the last three weeks?”

“I figured it wasn’t mutual, or you’d produce him eventually. Everyday you didn’t was a good day for me,” Harry shrugs, now that it’s all out in the open he’s ready leave the bad stuff behind, especially the pain.

"That day Liam was just in the right place at the right time. I needed to talk. I had to tell somebody because keeping it inside was crushing meand he was there. The same would've happened if it had been Niall," Louis explains quietly, and yeah Harry realizes he needed to hear that too.

"I get it now, and I'm really sorry, Lou," Harry apologizes again, willing to beg if he has to.

“Do they really remind you of my eyes?” Louis grabs Harry's hand to inspect the rings up close.

Harry was expecting Louis to interrogate him more, but he was unprepared for that particular question. Definitely not prepared for the soft wonder in Louis’ voice. “Yeah, they do,” he answers honestly, without an ounce of shame.

“Then I’m staying,” Louis drops Harry's hand before standing up and quickly stripping down to his boxers. “Move your ass, Harold,” he nudges Harry with his foot when climbs on the bed and can’t pull the comforter up because Harry’s sitting on it.

“Anything for you, Boo,” Harry stands up to slip the rings off. He carefully puts them back in the black jewelry box before slipping under the comforter with Louis, giving him no other option but to slide over.

After that they both take an abnormally long time to get comfortable. There’s a strange, but familiar tension in the room. It’s colored with sweet expectation and Harry decides to quit running from it. He stops moving first and he watches while Louis punches the pillow he’s slept on at least a hundred times already. When he finally stops he huffs and drops down onto his back with his eyes closed.

“Are you okay?” Harry asks when it looks like he plans on keeping them closed.

“No,” Louis sighs, but Harry thinks he understands.

"Would it help if I kissed you again,” he scoots closer.

“Probably,” Louis opens his eyes, relief in them probably because Harry made the first move. “Probably a lot,” he whispers after the first graze of Harry’s lips.

"Do you have any idea how good you looked tonight. I'm not the only one who couldn't take my eyes off you," Louis mumbles between subsequent grazes, tangling his hands in Harry's hair.

"Was too busy thinking about you to notice," Harry confesses before planting his mouth firmly against Louis'.

The first kiss was sloppy and too rough. The second one Harry was too busy trying to get it right to really enjoy it. This time they go slow, learning each others mouths together and the small sounds of pleasure coming from Louis scorch Harry from the inside out.

He feels hyper aware of everything; from Louis’ hand sliding up his chest before coming to rest on his shoulder to the trail of goosebumps that trail behind the soft touch. The coarse hairs on Louis’ leg brushing against his and the way Louis’ chest feels against his. He’s sensitive to every touch, to every sound filling his bedroom, but mostly Harry’s aware of Louis’ lips moving against his. The way his tongue is playing charge and retreat, and the way he stops to pull Harry’s bottom lip between his teeth before sucking on it gently. It may be just Harry’s third kiss ever, but he’s pretty sure he’ll remember this one as one of his best for as long as he lives.

“Can I touch you?” Louis pulls back from the kiss, but his mouth is so swollen and pink it doesn’t register with Harry what he means until Louis’ hand is slipping inside his boxers.

Harry never knew he needed a touch so much until Louis’ hand wraps around him, and he immediately goes from semi to all the way painfully hard.

“You’re throbbing,” Louis holds his hand still, not moving it at all, the heat from his palm close to driving Harry out of his mind.

“Louis,” he moans, drawing the name out, needing him to move his hand.

“Do you have anything?” Louis breathes as he presses a finger in the slit on head of Harry’s cock.

“Yeah,” Harry points to the nightstand on Louis’ side of the bed then moans his disappointment when Louis lets go of him to turn and reach inside the top drawer.

"Patience,” Louis teases when he comes out of the drawer holding a single tube of lube.

“I don’t have condoms,” Harry divulges the information with evident disappointment and without explaining why he has lube. There really isn’t a need to.

“I don’t have one either, here or at home. This is the last thing I was expecting tonight,” Louis explains, unintentionally bringing out the jealous side of Harry.

“Not even with Calvin?” he asks snidely, while silently admitting that he's happy to know Louis doesn't keep a stash of condoms laying around.

“Definitely not with Calvin!” Louis says hotly. “He was never my date. I turned him down when he asked me to go with him, and I only gave him a ride because he said he didn’t have one. Never would have done that if you went to the dance with me like I planned. Anyway, it turned out to be a bad idea. Calvin followed me around most of the night, even when I tried ignoring him. Finally had to pull him to the side to have a little talk. He left me alone after that.

“You don’t know how happy I am to hear that,” Harry pushes Louis down on his back, climbing on top of him before attacking his mouth again. Kissing him with years worth of pent up need.

“Yeah, I'd say that made you happy,” Louis sighs when Harry moves to his neck, biting and licking the smooth skin over his pulse.

“Very happy,” Harry begins to suck hard and Louis cries out in pain or pleasure. Or both based on the way he tilts his head to give more access.

Harry moves to the other side of Louis’ neck, giving it the same treatment before beginning a slow trek down stopping to taste his sensitive nipples and the dip above his stomach before sliding down further. He laps at Louis’ stomach, if possible getting more turned on by the tiny tremors going on under his tongue.

When Harry moves down to the waistband of his underwear Louis must have a moment of clarity because he starts pulling at Harry’s head. “You don’t have to do that. We have plenty of time now, there’s no need to rush,” he breathes.

“Let me show you how sorry I am for hurting you, Louis. I’d give one of my arms to take it all back, but I can’t so let me do this,” Harry pleads, holding Louis’ eyes hostage. “If that’s not enough of a reason for you, then let me do what I’ve wanted to do to you since I learned what a blow job was.”

“Fuck, Harry. Do you know what you do to me?” Louis drops back down on the bed. Harry takes it as a good sign.

“Probably the same thing you do to me,” he drops his head again. He takes just enough time to slide the black boxers down Louis' legs and when they're on the floor he takes the head of Louis' cock inside his mouth.

Harry wraps a hand around the base and he continues with the small licks around the head until he’s sure Louis is too far gone to change his mind. Only when he's sure does he risk pulling back to admire Louis’ impressive erection. The head is pink and swollen, and the way it fills up Harry’s hand makes him wonder how it’ll feel when Louis is inside of him. He’s watched enough porn to know Louis on the large side and the thought of them having sex scares him a little. A little being the operative words.

Harry realizes that’s a worry for another day when Louis pushes against his hand and he stops making him wait. Thank goodness for porn because there’s no awkwardness as he swallows Louis down. Only a little adjustment to the taste of cock in his mouth, but it’s a taste he can get used to. Really fast apparently, and by the time Louis pushes against the back of his throat the first time Harry could dine on the taste forever.

“Harry, please,” Louis begs, but Harry doesn’t know what he’s begging for so he moves his head a little faster and he squeezes his cheeks a little tighter. When Louis moans against the back of his hand Harry figures he did the right thing, and he begins moving even faster. Alternating between sucking and licking, taking more of Louis into his mouth each time he goes back down.

“You have to stop,” Louis cries urgently, lifting his hips at the same time he tugs at Harry hair. "Now!"

“I want all of you, Louis. Don’t hold back,” Harry knows what the urgency is. It’s the same electric heat crawling through his veins right now and he licks a path from Louis' balls to the leaking head of his cock before swallowing him down one last time.

That’s all it takes. Louis comes down his throat, muffling his cries with his forearm, but Harry’s too caught up in his own orgasm to hear or see Louis. He can hardly swallow because the spasms rocking him are so violent. They’re so intense it barely registers when he pulls off Louis' cock, and when the spasms finally stop all Harry can do is drop between Louis’ legs to rest his head on his stomach.

Minutes later Louis’ stomach is still heaving beneath Harry’s cheek, and it makes Harry feel better for totally losing it. It gives him a little energy too. He ignores his sticky underwear because he wouldn't trade this time with Louis for a zillion dollars. Or a clean pair of boxers.

Harry slowly kisses his way back up Louis' trembling body, burying his face Louis’ neck when he gets there and he waits until Louis’ breathing slows down before trying to kiss him like he wants to, but Louis blocks him by covering his face with his hands.

Harry can see the heat on his cheeks and his ears, and he can’t believe Louis is actually embarrassed. “I just came in my boxers from giving you a blowjob and you’re the one blushing?” he tugs Louis’ hands away from his face, and he’s relieved to see the beginnings of a smile.

“I’m pretending you didn’t just say that,” Louis presses his face to Harry’s shoulder.

“It was good though, right?" Harry keeps on, not bragging at all.

"It was amazing, you're really talented, now can we please stop talking about it,” Louis mumbles.

"Only if you'll buy condoms first thing tomorrow. I can't wait," Harry moves his body to let Louis know exactly what he's talking about, but if anything Louis' blushes harder.

"I can't wait either, I just didn't know it would be this hard to talk like this with you afterwards," he admits with closed eyes.

“Hey, who’s the virgin here?” Harry asks, confused and strangely endeared by this bashful Louis.

“You’d probably be surprised at how much experience I don’t have,” Louis gets serious.

Harry gets possessive. “Unsurprise me then.”

“Are you sure want to know? You never did before, and to think I thought you were just shy about stuff like this. To think I thought I could talk to you about it,” Louis muses, then shrugs when Harry responds by tilting his head and waiting. “Okay, since you insist so far I’ve only…,” Louis can’t finish because of the large hand covering his mouth.

“I changed my mind. I don’t need to know,” Harry remembered when Louis started talking why he never wanted to know what his best friend did on his dates. In the end he doesn’t care if Louis has had sex with a hundred people or one or none. It doesn’t change how he feels.

"Whatever you want, Haz," Louis sighs contently.

"Can I ask you something?" Harry finally feels comfortable to enough to bring up the only thing he's still questioning.

"Anything," Louis responds.

"You told Liam you tried to tell me before," Harry hesitates briefly. "Did you, because I don't remember that conversation. I hate thinking you tried to tell me and I didn't or wouldn't listen."

Louis visibly cringes and he sighs tiredly. "Not so much as tried to tell you, but more like show you, he says, blushing now. "Do you remember your secret admirer from last year?"

"The gifts were from you? That was you?" Harry asks, totally blown away. He never gave it much thought after he stopped receiving the gifts, but Louis is the very last person he would've ever thought was behind them. He didn't even come close to making it on Harry's small list of suspects.

"I stopped when you made it clear in that note how uncomfortable I was making you. I know you told me more than once how you hated the gifts, but for some reason it didn't click just how much until I saw it in writing."

"I only hated the whole thing because the gifts weren't from you. You're the only one I wanted, Louis. No one else ever stood a chance," Harry leans down to kiss Louis until he's sure all the disappointment he heard in his voice is gone. It takes sometime, but it ends up being mutually beneficial for both of them. "The third gift, I didn't open it. What was it?" Harry asks after his breathing slows down.

"The apple berry body wash you love so much," Louis goes back to sounding disappointed again.

"I would've become suspicious. Only people really close to me would know that, and I doubt my parents or sister would share the information with just anyone," Harry's pretty sure he's right. "That would've left only you."

"I wanted you to become suspicious and by the time I left the last gift I didn't want you to have any doubts that it was me."

"What was the last gift, Louis?" Harry's pulse speeds up and he makes mental note to ask about the other eight gifts later.

"Me, even had a red bow to go over my heart," Louis confesses with a red face. "So lame and embarrassing."

"Don't say that," Harry orders softly. "You don't know how much I wish we could go back. How I wish I had just opened the third gift. Wait, do you still have all of them?"

"Of course I do," Louis responds indignantly. "Not like I knew anybody else who'd want apple berry body wash," he huffs.

"Can I have them back?" Harry asks, the gifts taking on a new and precious meaning to him.

"Don't know Harold, you were quite unappreciative," Louis kids, laughing softly.

"It's fine if you don't give them to me because I already have the most important gift right here," Harry says, not kidding one tiny bit.

"Okay, you can have them," Louis concedes as he brings his arms up to wrap them around Harry's neck.

"You're so easy," Harry teases before giving in to the pressure from Louis' hand on the back of his head.

"Only for you," Louis sighs, getting the last word before lifting his head off the pillow to smash into Harry's eager and open mouth.

Harry gets lost in the feather light flickers of Louis' tongue across his. He moans when it turns to forceful swipes that move to the roof of his mouth, across his teeth, and back to his tongue. Louis conducts a thorough search of Harry's mouth and Harry feels it's only right that he return the favor when he takes over the kiss.

From there it's only natural for him to press his body against Louis'. Somewhere in the back of Harry's mind he knows they should stop, but he's powerless when Louis tightens his arms around his neck and he starts returning thrust for thrust. He opens his legs wider, and Harry sinks willingly in between them, already hard and hurting. He can feel Louis is in the same condition, and although he wants so much more he begins the trip down Louis' body to suck him off again.

"No," Louis stops Harry, pushing at his chest. "Let me," he uses his legs to flip them over and before Harry can blink twice his boxers are off and Louis' mouth is wrapped around him, moaning and sucking enthusiastically.

"Louis," Harry has to fight to just say the name. Louis is relentless and it gets worse when Harry looks down.

Louis' eyes are half closed and he's already looking at Harry. His mouth is obscenely stretched and his hand looks impossibly small wrapped around the base of Harry's cock, but it's the blissed out look in his eyes that has Harry lifting his hips to push deeper into Louis' mouth.

"Want you to fuck me," Harry whimpers, unable to hold the words back.

Louis lifts off, but he keeps working his hand up and down Harry's length. "I want that more than anything, but you know we can't," he breathes, regret mixed with heat in his eyes. "Right now I'd give anything for one of those condoms we used to get from Sex Ed.," he adds wistfully.

Harry was just about to argue they could do it without a condom just this once, but thanks to Louis his mind is doing cartwheels.

"Wait, fuck!" Harry twists onto his side, wincing when the fast move causes Louis to tug his cock a little too hard. "You're a fucking genius!" he rambles around in the top drawer of his bedside table, finally sighing and giving up when he fails to find what he's looking for.

"Well that was kind of anti-climatic," Louis is on his knees now, trying not to laugh.

"Leave the big words alone. They don't suit you," Harry moves to the second drawer, not ready to give up. This time he doesn't just ramble, he throws anything that's not a condom on the floor.

"Ha ha, keep throwing the insults and I'll really leave something big alone," Louis backs the threat up by closing his fist around Harry again, but he stops when Harry produces two condoms in the pale blue wrappers that'll forever be associated with the Sex Ed. class at their school. "Tell me you don't still have those," he teases, sounding amazed. "They have to be over two years old."

Harry's too high on his discovery to let Louis' ribbing get to him. "Are you sure want to discuss my hoarding issues right now?" he asks then bursts out laughing when Louis crawls over him to grab the condoms.

"You really want us to get caught don't you?" Louis mutters against Harry's mouth, linking their fingers around the condoms.

They don't talk much after that. Not until Harry's begging for more when Louis seems content with just kissing and touching every inch of his body above the waist.

"Louis, fuck!" Harry voice turns into a whine on the last letter when Louis starts sucking him off again.

"Hmmm," Louis hums around the head of Harry's cock, swirling his tongue in a rough pattern that has Harry's toes curling.

"I'll come if you don't stop," Harry pleads when Louis presses his tongue against the slit.

Louis lifts his head, wipes the saliva from his mouth with the back of his hand, watching and waiting on Harry until he opens his eyes. "Do you want to get on your knees or stay on your back?" he flushes a bright red, but his voice is steady.

"My back," Harry sighs, secretly relieved. When he first opened his eyes he thought Louis had changed his mind. "Definitely my back," Harry repeats himself, this time a little more urgently. He's sure at some point he'll want to try every position possible plus some, but not his first time. 

Louis gives him a small smile before reaching for the lube and the condoms. "Lift your legs for me," he mutters shakily.

"Okay," Harry obeys, bending his legs and planting his feet on the mattress. When's done he looks on in anxious fascination as Louis slides down on the mattress until his body is completely stretched out in between Harry's legs.

Louis' face is flush with Harry's bottom and any other body parts in that area. Harry can only see the top of his head now, and knowing how exposed he is only makes him more excited. His eyes automatically close when Louis spreads him open. He moans and drops his head on his pillow when Louis circles his finger around his hole.

More than anything the anticipation of what's to come has Harry trembling, but after a few minutes of Louis just making lazy circles and moving his finger back and forth Harry decides to take control. "Just do it Lou...oh fuck!" he gasps when Louis slides a finger in.

"You want me to stop?" Louis lifts his head to look at Harry, worry all over his face.

"No! Fuck no, Louis!", Harry hurries to assure him, already missing the small rotations of Louis' fingermand he moans his relief when Louis starts moving again.

Out of all the times Harry was tempted to finger himself he chickened out. Now he wonders what he was so afraid of.

Louis is doing the same circling, and back and forth. Only now his finger is inside and it's driving Harry crazy. He starts moving his hips to get Louis to move faster because the slow pace isn't enough, but when he immediately speeds up his movements Harry finally realizes that he's in control. Louis is letting him set the pace.

The knowledge sends an electric thrill through Harry's body and he decides to test his newfound power. "Another one, Louis."

Louis adds another finger without arguing and the trace amount of fear lingering in Harry's mind evaporates.

"You're so amazing, Haz," Louis rasps when Harry begins to ride his fingers.

Harry appreciates that Louis is trying to be careful with him. He loves him a little more for it, but right now he can't handle careful. He needs fast and rough. "Fuck, another one, Louis," Harry demands, past the point of caring because Louis' fingers feel too good. The small discomfort from being stretched and opened up don't even come close to decreasing how amazing it feels.

"Now, Louis," Harry's voice warbles, trying to back away from Louis' fingers, but Louis lifts his head and stops him by gripping his thigh.

"Are you sure?"

"I'll come if you don't," Harry grabs a fist full of sheet to keep from tugging Louis up forcefully. He's not sure how he knows he's ready, but he knows.

"I see that," Louis breathes. He rubs his thumb across the tip of Harry's cock, smearing the pre come. "Wanna taste you so bad."

"You can't," Harry pleads, knowing a couple of swipes of Louis' tongue is all it would take for him to lose it.

"I know," Louis scoots into a kneeling position before sticking his thumb in his mouth.

Harry slams his eyes shut to block the image, but when he hears Louis tearing the condom wrapper he opens them again. He doesn't want to miss a single second of his first time, but when Louis settles on top of him everything becomes surreal.

Harry returns the sweet kiss Louis gives him, and he must open his mouth at the right time because he's hazily aware of Louis' tongue sliding against his. When Louis begins pushing inside him, Harry falls deeper into whatever spell he's under. He's aware of everything and nothing at the same time. Louis is so gentle, and if he could Harry would tell him he doesn't have to be because there's no pain. Only the wonder of Louis being inside him.

He crashes back to reality with a loud gasp the first time Louis moves. Or maybe Louis made the sound because his exhale is hot and wet against Harry's neck.

"Haz!" Louis moans, biting then soothing skin over Harry's pulse. They exchange breaths and share the same awed expressions when Louis moves again.

Harry automatically lifts his legs to wrap them around Louis' waist and after more painstakingly slow thrusts he can tell Louis is still trying to be careful with him. He's holding back, and this time Harry let's him. He wants to experience every stroke and every thrust of Louis' hips, but a few short minutes later he's crying for more.

"Harder, Louis," Harry's pretty sure he meant faster, but harder works, and he grips Louis' hips to guide him into an even faster pace. "Fuck!"

"Can't hold on much longer," Louis breathes against Harry's ear.

"Me too," Harry sighs, feeling like he's burning from the inside out. Like he's about to explode.

Louis' thrusts become faster and jerkier. His stomach traps Harry's cock, creating a friction that has Harry moaning and biting Louis' shoulder.

"I love you, Haz," Louis pants, and after one bone jarring thrust his entire body freezes.

Even through the condom Harry can feel Louis' pulsations inside him and it sends him plummeting. He comes hard and long, creating a sticky mess between them.

This time Louis pulls Harry down from the clouds. He peppers Harry's neck and shoulder with reverent pecks.

"That was incredible," Harry wheezes, still breathing hard.

"It was everything," Louis buries his face against Harry's neck.

Harry doesn't know if Louis is being shy again or if he's just tired. So he stays quiet, watching through hooded eyes when Louis gently slides out of him. He takes the condom off and leans over the side of the bed. He comes back up with his hoodie and proceeds to clean both of them up as best he can.

Harry could get up and make the trip to the bathroom for a washcloth, but resting his head on Louis' chest and cherishing the moment seems more important.

They stay that way until Louis yawns. "Are you sleepy?” Harry lifts off Louis to plop down on his back, but he yanks his best friend with him.

“A little, I haven’t been sleeping much lately,” Louis finally gives in, resting his head on Harry's chest after a false struggle. “Guess I’m due about three weeks worth,” he yawns again before snuggling closer when Harry folds his arms around him.

“I’m so sorry, Louis,” Harry tightens his hold. “I really thought I was doing the right thing.”

“It’s okay. I was an idiot too,” Louis levels out his generosity with an insult.

“I never said I was an idiot,” Harry fakes offense.

“It’s okay, I said it for you,” Louis stops mid yawn to slap his hand over Harry’s mouth when he laughs out loud. “You’re about to get us caught. I can’t imagine what our punishment would be for this.”

“Looks pretty innocent to me. We sleep like this all the time, but can you imagine my mom calling Jay, trying to explain why you can’t come over again until we graduate from college,” Harry muffles his laugh against Louis’ head this time.

“No, I can’t and I don’t want to,” Louis protests, but Harry can feel him smiling against his chest. “Honestly, I think they’d probably high five each other.”

Before Harry can agree with Louis the alarm goes off on his phone and he jumps out of the bed to shut it off. He’s set the same alarm on every phone he’s had so that even if they're asleep or if Louis isn't with him, he'd still be the first one to wish his best friend a happy birthday.

Harry turns back to the bed with regret all over his face, it intensifies when he sees Louis holding back the comforter for him.

“Hurry, it’s cold under here without you.”

“Happy birthday, Louis.”

“There’s that too,” Louis smiles sweetly, but it makes Harry feel guiltier for everything he put them through.

He walks over to the bed, but instead of climbing in he gets on his knees, coming back up with a large box gift wrapped with birthday paper. When Harry has a good grip on the long box he gets off his knees and climbs back on the bed before passing it to Louis.

“What is it?”

Never one for finesse Louis rips the paper off the gift, his eyes ripe with expectation, but when he sees the first signs of what’s under the paper he stops to frown at Harry in confusion.

“I didn’t think we’d be here together or even talking. I was going ask Jay if she’d say this was from her,” Harry confesses with a heavy heart, but he’s still excited for Louis to see what’s inside the box. He has been for a long time.

“I would’ve known,” Louis says absently while he removes the rest of the paper, and carefully opens the box the look at the limited edition sportster inside. “My mom can’t afford it. Besides I never showed this to anyone but you,” he runs his hands over the top of the line black and gold skateboard. It's the one he showed Harry in a magazine a year ago with little to no hopes of ever owning it.

“Do you like it?” Harry asks, but really he already knows, The awe is all over Louis’ face.

“I love it, but it’s expensive, Harry. Where did you get the money from?” Louis asks still touching the board with fascination. “Harry,” he draws the name out when Harry doesn’t answer him.

“That’s not the point,” Harry weakly tries to evade.

Louis loves skateboarding more than anything, and more than anything Harry loves Louis. When the opportunity presented itself for him to buy the skateboard he didn't hesitate.

“Did you spend your award money on me?” Louis asks, all the enthusiasm draining from his face.

“Yes, but I wanted to,” Harry responds stubbornly, knowing what’s next.

“Then you’re sending this back. You were supposed to be saving that money for a car, not spending it on me,” Louis says angrily, closing the box then pushing it to the foot of the bed.

“First, I still have plenty of the money. Second, I’m not sending the skateboard back, Louis. If you don’t keep it I will and you know I’ll try to ride it. Then I’ll end up breaking my neck because you know how bad I am at skateboarding. How will you feel then?” Harry threatens, loving the power he has to make Louis smile even when he’s angry.

“It’ll just confirm for me that you are an idiot,” Louis teases, but again he evens out the insult by surging upmand kissing Harry with so much gratitude he sees stars.

“I hope that means you’re keeping it,” Harry breathes when they pull apart, but before Louis can answer he lifts his head for another kiss. He thinks Louis’ swollen post kiss lips will probably be the reason his heart finally stops beating.

“Can’t let you break your neck, can I?” Louis smirks when Harry removes his tongue from his mouth. "Your mom would kill me, and what would the world be without the both of us?"

“Probably a little calmer. Now just say thank you, Louis,” Harry orders, trying not to laugh.

“Thank you, Louis,” Louis says dryly.

“Louis,” Harry warns.

“Seriously thank you, Haz. I love it, but you already know that,” Louis looks like he’s about to kiss Harry again, but then he bursts out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Harry frowns, wondering if he missed something.

“What are the chances, pun intended, of college boy and Gemma getting married one day and having children. How would they explain to little Chance and Gemma Jr. that their dad took their uncle on his first date?”

“The only thing better would be little Chance and Gemma Jr.'s uncle in law teasing Gemma every chance he gets for setting the date up in the first place to make him jealous,” Harry responds brilliantly. At least he thinks so.

Louis only rolls his eyes. “You’re so weird, Harry, but I’m kinda okay with that if it happens,” he admits the last part softly, almost too quiet for Harry to hear.

But he did hear it. “I know,” Harry adds unnecessarily, but he had to go for it. Who knows when he'll have another opportunity to have the last word again. Louis must be in some kind of mood to let him have it twice in one night.

A few minutes later when Harry’s head is on Louis’ chestnand he’s close to sleep Louis’ voice drags him back to consciousness.

“I want to know everything, Harry. Like when you first knew, what’s it been like for you not knowing I felt the same way, why you didn't tell me. I need to know what it is about me that does it for you because I can’t think of a single thing, but all of that can wait. Right now I just need you to say it,” Louis’ voice gets impossibly small,and he threads his fingers in Harry’s hair. “I need to hear you say the words.”

Despite everything that's happened between them tonight Harry still hears the vulnerability. It makes him ache with the need to wrap Louis up in his armsm and if Louis would let him, Harry would answer each question without hesitation. He'd confess that he doesn't know when because he can't pinpoint the exact moment his crush changed to love because there was never a break in between the transition. He'd say it's been a living nightmare thinking Louis didn't return his feelings, but he never said anything because it was always better not knowing than telling him and having his hopes crushed forever. The only problem Harry would have is telling Louis all the reasons he loves him because the list is endless. Although he'd begin with Louis' inner and outer beauty, and how he tries to takes care of his mom and sisters. Louis' sense of loyalty and his sense of humor would also be at the top of the list.

Harry could tell Louis he desperately needs the same questions answered for him, but he realizes he's made the past three weeks about him. Tonight is about Louis so instead of any of that he looks his best friend and almost certainly his boyfriend in the eyes to give him what he wants.

“I love you, Louis. I wish I could think of a better way to say it, make it more profound, but I can’t so I’ll say it as much as you want to hear it. I love you. If you want I'll even change it to I like you a lot since we're only seventeen and eighteen, but it would be a lie. A huge stinking lie.”

“Ooh, that's the worst kind,” Louis' teasing is at odds with the emotion in his eyes. “I love you too, Haz," he adds, tearing up a little.

“I know,” Harry says smugly, ignoring the wetness pooling in his own eyes, because he's really enjoying this last word thing.

“Idiot,” Louis groans.

“Your idiot,” Harry reminds him before returning to the same spot on his chest, determined to be the last one to speak, amazed that Louis hasn't caught on to what he's doing.

“Mine,” Louis sighs, almost asleep.

Harry’s just woke enough to change his mind. Since Louis is so brilliant at it, he can have the last word anytime he wants.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Again to littlehazspoon thanks for the lovely prompt, and I sincerely apologize if it didn't meet your expectations. Another thanks to all involved for allowing me this experience, and also to everyone who's reading this because that means you made it to the end.


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